


Moral Compass

by Skeren



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: But he's trying to do what he thinks is the right thing, Confinement, Dark Alphonse, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poor Ed has no clue, Post-Anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5759209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alphonse had debated a long time before choosing to do things this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written between May of 2005 and January of 2006.

Alphonse rolled over in bed, eyes opening as he tried to figure out what woke him. Sleep was precious now that he had it again and he’d quickly made his brother’s sleep habits look positively normal. He slept far more now than his brother ever had.

Thus failing to explain why he was awake. 

Shoving himself into an upright position, gray eyes scanned the room, seeing nothing out of place, and nothing that shouldn’t be there. It was only when he was about to give up and go back to sleep that he realized what had disturbed him. Kimbley wasn’t in the room. Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, as he made sure to keep the man’s medication at a high enough dose to keep him docile, but the morning before he’d run out of supplies. That meant that his charge would be more aware of himself than normal after nearly a day without. 

Alphonse let that concept sink in, turning over why that would be a bad thing for only a moment before he got to his feet, his mind finally starting to work properly. In the two months he’d been in charge of the older, barely healed alchemist, he’d been drugging him. He didn’t know how he’d react to him without it, and he sincerely hoped that the man wasn’t able to focus enough yet to use his alchemy. He wasn’t eager to get blown up, and the fact that the man had already tried that once didn’t help his case in the least.

That didn’t mean, however, that he regretted not turning him in once they’d realized he was still alive. He’d been the only person left in the city, right where they’d left him, breathing shallow and uneven. They’d already used the stone, and it had been Alphonse that had realized that there was some life in the man. And all of those things added together to having him fearing for his life at four in the morning. It half made him wonder if the good deed had been worth it.

Hearing noise from the direction of the living room, Alphonse moved out of the bedroom and down the hall. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but having to dodge thrown projectiles hadn’t crossed his mind as a method of retaliation. The loud crash as the lamp slammed into the wall made him glad that his brother wasn’t home. 

“Kimbley…” He trailed off as he realized that the gold eyes of the elder were very intently focused on him. He had always watched him, following his movements with sharp attention, but it had been a very long time since any level of awareness or _anger_ had been present in that gaze.

“Why?” The dark-haired man rose from the floor, nearly not making it as some hard shivers ran over his frame, but it didn’t stop him from prowling towards the blond teen. 

“Why what exactly?” Alphonse backed away a couple steps as the man put his hands together, never breaking gazes with him. Even if the man might not be capable of using his alchemy at the moment, he didn’t wish to test the theory out.

“You know what. This. Why did you feel the need to do _this_?” It was just a hiss, and the older alchemist lunged forward, only narrowly missing the other, and even then the lack was mostly due to a sudden pain in his side where his wound had been. It distracted him just long enough that the blonde had managed to duck away.

Seeing that the shakes and his wounds were slowing him down, Alphonse tackled him, intent on getting him pinned until he could do something about this. The man was hindered from his attempts to get the other off his back by a particularly violent set of shakes, that being all it took to give the blond the chance to grab his wrists and pin them to the floor. 

Alphonse listened to the harsh breathing under him for a long moment, and it occurred to him to wonder why the man would be reacting so badly to only one day without. “It was either turning you in or keeping them from realizing you survived.”

Growling in the back of his throat, Kimbley yanked at his hands, clearly displeased, but a wave of dizziness made him close his eyes to try to ward it off. That didn’t stop him from trying to get loose though. “Not _that_ , this.” 

Alphonse leaned on the hands in his grip when a particularly harsh jerk almost got the man loose. This was the longest conversation they’d had since he ended up being his caretaker. “I couldn’t trust you without them. I really thought about it, but it was what I needed to do.”

Kimbley fisted his hands, trying to hang onto consciousness as another wave of dizziness almost knocked him out. He had that sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t become aware again for even longer than before if he let go. As it was, the last few months were little more than a hazy blur. “Would have been better to die.”

Alphonse sighed softly, leaning closer to catch the almost inaudible words as the man struggled for just a little harder to stay awake. “It’s not that bad. You’ll see that it’s not that bad.” 

“It is.” Kimbley had to let go awareness at that point, but the absolute malice in his tone hadn’t been stopped by the lack of volume. 

“No, it isn’t.” Alphonse lifted his hand cautiously, and when no movement met his actions, he ran his fingers through the loose mane of black that his captive had. 

Thinking back over the extremity of the reaction he’d just seen to the withdrawal of the drug for even the short span of time, he decided that he’d try something else. Maybe, if he took him gradually off the control, he could fix the physical problems he’d caused, and with luck, he’d be able to trust the man. He just had to do this correctly. If he did, then he wouldn’t have to worry about the man trying to kill him when it was all said and done.


	2. Chapter 2

There was nothing for it. The weaning process had gone well at first, but the moment he’d started gaining lucidity, things had started to go downhill. The shakes hadn’t returned, and he hadn’t been damaged, but recognition had come with a feral, and obviously clear, desire to hurt.

The only reason he wasn’t dead was revealed when the man had glared helplessly down at his hands. It seemed that he was still unable to focus properly to use his alchemy. The attack he had tried had resulted in him stumbling over his own feet, ending up on hands and knees as he continued to give Alphonse dark, threatening looks that made clear what he’d do to him if he dared get in reach.

That had been enough motivation to try and find another drug, or at the very least to slow down on what he was doing. He wasn’t sure how many more days he had before his brother came home, and he didn’t need him to see Kimbley up and around if it meant that the up and around was a bad thing. It was bad enough that his plan didn’t seem to be working.

So he came to this moment, where he was approaching the man, brush in hand. He wasn’t completely unaware, the look in his eyes enough to indicate that he was watching, unlike he’d been for the first few months of this experiment. The lack of obvious hostility and his calmness was by no means something that Alphonse took as a personal compliment. He’d hiked the drug dosage that morning without bringing it back to the old level.

“I know you don’t like being this way, but we both remember what happened when you had the chance to be otherwise.” He slid behind the man, starting the brush at the bottom of his long hair as he spoke. 

The words were met with a soft growl, a faint twitch, and a slowly raised hand. He was in there, and he seemed determined to make his displeasure known. It didn’t even get him so much as a second’s pause.

“Don’t be like that. I’ve been brushing out this mess for a while now. It’s nothing new. Someone had to make sure you stayed properly groomed while you were like that. Not to say you were incapable, but some of the finer things seemed to escape you. If anything, you seem more hindered now than when you were oblivious to yourself.”

The blond teen could feel the subtle cringe that his words caused in the man under his hands, and he petted his palm down his back in a soothing motion before resuming what he’d been doing. Just because he was a little aware didn’t mean Kimbley was all there by any means. If he had been, then he wouldn’t have leaned into the petting and allowed himself to be distracted mere moments later. 

“I do hope you’ll start talking back to me soon. These conversations seem a bit one sided when you can’t focus well enough to talk to me.” 

As soon as the last tangle was dealt with, Alphonse put the brush aside, pulling the man back into a loose hug. It would have been hard to miss the confusion that his actions caused as golden eyes swung immediately to face him. Of course, the man also tried to get out of it, not being fond of the contact even in his most drugged state.

“Shh, it’s late, just rest a bit while dinner finishes up. You can be up and about for a little while after that.” 

Seeing the start of frustration on the captive man’s face when his effort to get up was easily hindered, the teen started to run his fingers through his hair. The distraction worked just like it should have, distracting him from his need to get away much like he would have for a wild feline. The blond tucked the newly calmed alchemist back into place, keeping an eye on the clock for when he’d have to deal with the food on the stove.

His thoughts drifted a little, and he realized one simple fact. He hadn’t been patient enough. If he just took his time, then this would turn out perfectly.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward hadn’t been all that sure about the wisdom of his brother’s actions. He’d seen the occasional dark looks and the other, quieter, subdued actions that sometimes halfheartedly followed them, but the youngest in the house had seemed oblivious. Either that, or perhaps he simply hadn’t cared. 

When the older brother had found himself needing to leave again, he’d first given his brother a new drug, demanding he use that if he felt the other was unhealthy. He wouldn’t have his brother ending up at the mercy of a known killer. 

Apparently the only one who didn’t think that Kimbley would ultimately kill Alphonse… was Alphonse.

It had been a month since he’d started the weaning alchemist off the drugs. He found himself using the new ones a week after his brother left, two into the experiment. 

He’d only been convinced of the need when the older alchemist managed to make his glass explode inches from his fingers, having gotten the timing wrong due to the unpredictable level of control. He’d been trying to maim the younger man, not scare him.

It was a week after that now, and Alphonse had switched completely over to the new drug. He was finding it better in some ways, but highly confusing in others. On the one hand, Kimbley could talk to him now, to an extent. On the other, some of the things the older man did were truly odd.

This, for instance, was one of the occasions when the new reactions utterly baffled him. He simply was _not_ used to having the dark man crawling into his bed. The fact that the man, when dosed up on the first drug, had still had leaned away from his touch, or twitched from contact, made this even stranger to him.

Cracking open his eyes to regard the form curled up against his side incredulously, there was no doubt that this was, indeed, what had happened. He’d known that the new medication had made him more agreeable, but not quite to this extent.

Considering his options for a long moment, the young caretaker brushed the barely in place blanket to the side, making the item fall off the bed with a muted ruffle of cloth. It didn’t seem to disturb the older man any, so he ran his fingers along his side, testing to see if the man had truly gone back to sleep so quickly. It didn’t even cause a twitch in response, so the blond nudged the man over onto his back, just to be completely sure he wouldn’t wake up hurting because this was a trick. Still, nothing.

This was really a first in a lot of ways. Even asleep and nigh incoherent with drugs, he’d never been this… easy to maneuver on the first kind. It was a change the young alchemist was discovering that he could get used to. Sure, he’d noticed that the more of this drug he’d transferred over, the more accommodating he’d become, but the awareness hadn’t really faded away as under the first, so he had thought it might be more difficult to get him to do as he wanted.

Alphonse rolled over to go back to sleep after snatching the blanket off the floor and pulling it up over the man. Once he was comfortable, he went back to sleep. This odd behavior continued for a week more before the blond decided to test a theory.

After careful observation, subtle touches during the day and other things of the kind, he’d figured out what was going on. Something about the new drugs made the man crave contact, making him lean into the attention instead of away. His eyes weren’t the same as the first time either. A faint gleam in the gold gaze making it clear that he was just aware enough to know that he wanted the discomfort soothed, yet not quite enough to really protest. So Alphonse obliged.

Those actions led to this particular evening. Alphonse held off his much-coveted sleep after crawling under the covers, getting comfortable as he normally would, then he observed. He’d noted that the other man seemed to have been taking less time each night before waking him by taking up his space, so he’d decided to see what drove him to doing it in the first place. 

The dark man tossed and turned. Alphonse usually didn’t see this series of events because he’d simply go straight to sleep. This time, he watched, seeing the way the man grew steadily more restless until he rolled entirely out of bed, unfocused gold eyes roving the room until they settled on the other mattress. After that, the man crawled over, shivering as though chilled until he was in place next to his keeper, tucked up against the younger form so his discomfort would go away.

Instead of finally going to sleep, Alphonse rolled to face the man fully, nudging him over on his back and getting a confused, sleepy look for his trouble. 

“You keep crawling over here at night.” It took a few moments, but he only continued when the man seemed to fully understand what he was saying. “You can’t sleep by yourself on this medication, can you?"

This reaction took longer, but finally the other looked off to the side, having the presence of mind to not like this fact, nor admit to it.

Alphonse quirked his lips, fingers running back and forth across the chest of the man in his care, the bandages less after so long, enough to not get in the way of the questing fingers. At first, there wasn’t much of a reaction, but slowly the petting drifted into longer and longer paths, until his fingers moved too low, drawing a startled little yelp and arch out of the darker man.

A tiny smirk flitting across his face, the blond promptly rolled over and went to sleep. Possibly… he could go somewhere with that. He hadn’t really considered how to use those physical side effects before. Though, he certainly was now.


	4. Chapter 4

Alphonse knew that Kimbley wanted to be resentful, it was something that was easily seen in his eyes at times. Slowly, though, as the last of the original drug worked out of his system, the lingering resistance started to falter. He followed the younger alchemist more closely around the house, trying to stay within touching distance near constantly. 

He also tried to be subtle while doing this, attention shifting to a glare whenever the blond would look his direction. It might have been more believable if he didn't press into casual touches like a starved thing. About two days after the night he'd crawled into bed with a very much awake caretaker, the neediness of him had taken a dramatic spike. 

He no longer protested having his hair brushed, sitting sullenly under the tending, hands clenched in his lap. Brushes to his arm or back drew twitches towards instead of away, and when Alphonse took it upon himself to make sure his charge was cleaned properly, the older alchemist just stood with gritted teeth and closed eyes. The conflict seemed unending to the man, and the blond didn't like it. 

He knew that the older man wasn't comfortable when he wasn't being touched in some way. Casual actions were enough to keep him calm, and the sedative effect of the pills was enough to keep him controllable. Neither helped the situation, however, since they didn't stop the man from fighting with himself, making it worse by resisting the new needs for touch that were being fostered by his medication. The teen knew that no progress could be made until the older man understood that it was okay to want to be touched.

That was why he was interrupting his own schedule today. He only had two days before his brother was home from his trip, and he wasn't sure that he would really understand that his plans were honestly needed for their house guest to finally get comfortable. Knowing Edward, he'd likely pitch a fit about something or another and get in the way. He was having enough of that from Kimbley himself, he didn't need it from two sources, so that meant that the blond had to use his remaining time alone with the eldest male in the house _wisely_.

That choice had led to this moment, when he'd steered Kimbley directly from the shower towards the bedroom instead of heading to the kitchen to work on dinner. It was enough for the dark haired man to actually protest. "Wait-"

"Don't worry, you'll get dinner, I just didn't bring your clothes to the bathroom while you were washing." Putting one hand against the fresh bandages that wrapped his torso, against the edge of the wound that should have killed him, was sufficient motivation to get the man moving again. "I just want to see something okay? After that I'll make some soup for you."

"But-" 

"No." He knew he wouldn't be able to override the other man so easily if he hadn't been so weakened, but he hoped that if this went well, then the man would be on the path to being less of a danger to him and the people around him. He didn't want to think that his brother was right about the man. "You like soup. You told me you did, so we'll do that for dinner."

Kimbley was gritting his teeth again in response, but no further words passed his lips. That was enough to satisfy Alphonse, since he was sure that the man was being so difficult because he'd gone and changed an established routine on him. It must be rather disorienting, since he'd kept things mostly the same since he'd been up and about. He only really changed things when he felt that Kimbley had been overly disagreeable. Like with the lamp.

"You're not in trouble, I just need you to come in here for a little while for me." The words drew an unamused, narrow-eyed look, but he seemed to relax a little just the same. The blond wasn't sure what the other long haired man expected him to do sometimes, but he'd given up on wondering. It simply wasn't worth the effort to anticipate him when it wasn't going to come to whatever bad thing he was waiting for anyway. 

Shaking his head to clear it from the musings that had crept in while he'd been steering the injured man through the room, he nudged Kimbley down to sit on his bed. It wasn't like the man was really sleeping on it anymore, so it would be alright if it got a bit messed up. Sensing that the man was starting to tense up, he crawled quickly onto the bed himself, hands going to the bare shoulders to push him back against the covers.

He wanted to tell the man that it was okay for him to calm down and relax, but he knew from experience that that would be tantamount to telling the man that he was about to do something foul to him. It wasn't anything personal, but the older alchemist had clearly had a few negative experiences in the past that made it harder for him to accept something good. He'd just have to show him that he meant no harm without saying anything at all.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t hard to see that the other alchemist wasn’t terribly pleased with the situation, half-desperate eyes still showed how upsetting he was finding it to need such a relief. Alphonse carefully ignored the look, already knowing that the man needed the contact more than he wanted to deny it, and gray eyes quietly considered the pale splay of limbs resting under him, trying to decide how far he would take this, how much he should push so early.

After a few long, careful moments of just watching, the hands at his shoulders slid, gently moving over the skin of his shoulders, the contours of his arms. Under such a close scrutiny, it was easy to see where the man had once been strong and wasn’t anymore, how all the damage hadn’t been from the almost fatal wound. A finger moved over the dark haired man’s collarbone, something that had been a stark relief when he’d found him.

He’d gotten healthier since then. Really, Alphonse knew that the man just had needed a proper caretaker, someone to make him less dangerous, to make sure that he didn’t keep up the self-destructive habits. After his brother, the blond figured that he was well equipped for that job. 

As his hands slid over the shoulders and down, the blond wisely didn’t look into the man’s face, not wanting to be deterred by someone who refused to admit their own needs and wants. He knew that being left alone hurt the man in some way, and he had decided to remedy that. He didn’t like to see someone hurting, not when relief was something so very easy to give.

Tanned hands slid lower on the pale skin, flitting around bandages carefully as he took in the way the trembling form finally started to press up into his touch, and the long haired male finally stopped fighting the contact. Only then did gray eyes look back to the man’s face, checking to see if he had calmed down from the edge of panic that he’d been at earlier.

Not quite. He wasn’t quite back away from the edge, but it was hard to tell with how his face was turned away from him. At least it was better though, that much Alphonse was thankful for. He didn’t want this to be a bad experience. After all, he’d done his best not to scare the man, no matter if the man would have at one point gleefully killed _him_. 

He flit his gaze over the rest of the man, taking in the way his hands were tightly pressed against the covers, the way tension seemed to practically radiate from his body, and the blond decided that his slow approach wasn’t having the results he’d hoped it would. Turning that over in his mind, he returned his gaze to where his own hands were running light patterns on the skin, a firm, careful touch, and he decided that maybe he was going about this the wrong way. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d made a simple mistake with the man after all. 

Nodding to himself a bit as he came to a decision, he decided to go with what had been his first impulse. To just touch, give the man relief, and return to the schedule they normally kept. The lingering was only putting more stress on his charge. 

He didn’t consider that this was just as much for him, not yet, because that would go against the reasoning he’d established as to how everything fit in place. There was nothing wrong with wanting contact, of course. Alphonse understood the concept better than most people ever would. It made him more than willing to give it when someone under his care needed the attention. Again, though, was that this wasn’t for him. It was to help the other male. 

Remembering his little test from a few nights before, he slid one palm down, against the man’s hip in close to his groin, then he turned the touch to stroke the backs of his fingers up again, just next to the more sensitive skin. Finally, that got the favorable reply he’d been looking for, a hitch in the black haired man’s breathing, a subtle arch of his body.

Yes, he’d just gone about things too patiently again. He needed to stop doing that before he made some mistake that ruined his careful progress. He needed to remember that the man wasn’t used to careful and saw it as a threat. 

So when the man made a small, half protesting, half needy noise, Alphonse turned his hand, rubbing a bit more firmly along the side of the of the growing erection. The action was short-lived, since the older alchemist arched sharply into the touch, hands curling tightly in the blankets as though that would stop him from reacting. There was a flicker of a thought to wonder if the man simply hadn’t had any of that sort of touch for a long time, but the idea was quickly dismissed. It didn’t matter.

No, what mattered was making his charge feel good. It would calm him, and he was sure that he’d feel better after for his troubles. 

Nimble fingers returned to the erection he’d been so close to a moment before, curling around the warm skin, and his other hand pressed firmly into the man’s lower stomach, easing him back to the bed. He didn’t want to risk hurting him by tightening his grip when the man moved, which he was sure he wanted to if the mostly strangled noise he made was any indication. 

Alphonse reminded himself sharply he’d decided not to tease him more than he needed to for now. That firmly in mind, he started to move his fingers, fascinated eyes watching the somewhat less than perfect glide of skin over skin, something he hadn’t really thought would be so intriguing, for a long moment before the sound of Kimbley’s voice filtered through his fascination. It was doubtlessly needy, by no means coherent, and the blond couldn’t help but note that he rather liked it that way. His body certainly agreed, and he decided that maybe he needed to hurry things up before he got _too_ excited about this, reminding himself that he was just soothing the other alchemist.

His fingers sped, working diligently against the hard flesh as he let his gray eyes wander over the man’s squirming form, the restless actions of his hands twisting the sheets. He had to admit it was something he’d more than happily want to see again and again, if only in the very back of his mind.

Yet, almost as an answer to his idle curiosity for how long the man had gone without, things were over far more quickly than the blond had hoped. Too soon, there was a hot spill against his palm, yet beyond the obvious sign and a sharp tension at the climax, there wasn’t a sound to mark the man’s completion. 

Leaving the dark haired man dazed on the bed, Alphonse slipped from the room, for the first time in a week able to leave it without his quiet shadow tagging along. It was a sensation he wasn’t sure he wanted to get used to. Gathering up a towel and washcloth after washing his hands, he started back to where he’d left Kimbley.

He hoped that it worked, that this brand of touch would help the man calm down from that need that was almost always in his eyes. He needed the man to trust him, even for something like this. If he could get him to be obedient in some fashion, at least to him, then his brother would stop pressing for solutions he wasn’t sure he had yet. So preoccupied with his thoughts was he, that he didn’t immediately notice the way the alchemist had curled up on the covers, having fallen asleep in the few minutes the teen had been out of the room.

Alphonse thought it was a horrible shame that he had to wake him, but there was no help for it. He wanted to make sure he stayed clean after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm marking this as complete, for the time being, but this is one of the old stories I might eventually pick back up, if only because I'm still fond of the darkness of this story and its implications.

Alphonse sighed softly, running his fingers restlessly through the dark hair of the man seated firmly at his feet. The man was only on the floor so that he would have a clear view of his brother, who he’d been watching pace for a good portion of the last hour. He’d known this was coming long before his brother managed to get back through the door, and he couldn’t help but feel a little ungrateful that his first thought was frustration that he hadn’t been gone longer. It wasn’t Edward’s fault that things were going so slowly, and it certainly wasn’t _his_ fault that he had things occupying time he rightfully should have spent with his sibling.

“Al… Look, I’m glad you’ve gone him under control and everything, but he’s still not safe to be around. You’ve been at this for months now, don’t you think, maybe…” He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, automail fingers running quickly through his bangs, showing just how agitated he was. “Maybe it’s time we gave him to someone else to deal with. He’s almost healed you know, and the only thing keeping him under control is those drugs. It’s not right Al.”

It hurt to hear the upset, pained note in his brother’s voice, but he had to stick by this. Edward just didn’t understand how much time and effort had gone into the man. He didn’t understand how far he’d _come_. “Brother. I can’t. I won’t give up in the middle of this. I won’t turn him in for jailers who’d just turn around and kill him. Not after so long. You understand that, right?”

The long haired blond moved to the window, fingers clutching the sill hard enough to make it creak. “Damn it Al. You know I don’t want to agree with you.” He bowed his head, staring down at the grass and frostbitten flowers beyond. “I don’t think this is better for him. It’s not better for you either.”

Alphonse heard the start of something, an annoyed noise of some kind that was really not needed at this particular point in the conversation, and he curled his hands tightly in the strands, the sound cutting off in a half pained, half startled gasp. The teen turned to stroking the hair instead of finger-combing it as an apology. The man really didn’t seem to realize when something was for his own good. “But you do agree with me. You know as well as I do that this time they would execute him, because he’s just not fit enough anymore, or maybe he’d be turned over to someone doing experiments. It’s not safe. It’s not like we’re exactly on good terms with the military right now you know.” 

He wasn’t sure if it should have been pleasing to see his brother flinch with realization that his own words had been thrown back in his face, but he was. It hurt to think that he was reduced to that, but he needed to protect them from themselves. Both of them needed someone to be clearheaded. It was obviously was not Edward, and Kimbley simply wasn’t up to the task. 

The silence drew out for a while longer before Edward turned to look at them, letting out a resigned breath. “We should never have taken him in you know. We should have let someone know he was there and let the medical people deal with him, risked that they’d actually take care of the man. We shouldn’t have risked our luck like this.”

Alphonse leaned down, catching the unhappy look of the man leaning against his legs, and he made a soft noise, distracting him from the conversation for a second so he could move his hands to rest firmly on his shoulders, intentionally jarring him before looking to his brother. “Ed, we already did. We can’t go back on that now.”

“I know Al. I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He had to look away from the pair, obviously not at ease with how close they were, but unable to make his point any more clear than he had already tried.

Understanding softened the gray-eyed teen’s voice, and he sat up in his seat, shooting his brother’s back a sad smile. “I never claimed you had to brother. Just let me do what I need to do.”

“Sure Al. I think I’m just- I’m going to go get some supplies, do you need me to get anything while I’m out?” Edward didn’t look in their direction as he asked, seemed unwilling to focus his attention back on them.

“There’s a list tacked to the kitchen door.” The reply earned a sharp nod, then the smaller figure was gone from sight, head ducked as he hurried from the room.

Alphonse was certain that his brother would come around eventually. After all, if Kimbley was finally getting used to things, being friendly, then he was sure his brother wouldn’t hold onto his reservations. He just needed to realize they’d made a lot of progress. Turning his gaze to the older alchemist who had at some point looked up at him, eyes narrowed in a displeased glare, the young blond couldn’t help but think that his brother really had lousy timing. 

He wasn’t ready to split his attention yet.


End file.
